“I…” I blew out a breath. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
“You’re wrong.”
I nodded. “Now tell me as the hand of the Goddess”—I saw their eyes narrow—“not as the druid who has molded her over the years as the daughter of the Hollow.”
The druid lost their scowl, a frown forming on their smooth skin. “You think affection clouds my judgment.”
“How can it not?” I asked them, equally as somber. “She’s very hard not to love.” Their eyes sharpened at my words, and I waved it off. “It’s no secret I left here because Rowen brokemy heart when she told me she would never stand beside me.” I peered into the three bowls. “Seriously, is any of them tea?”
The druid huffed in displeasure. Smoothly, they stood, and with some clutter and clinks of china, they sat back down with a teapot and two china cups. A kettle that seemed to always be bubbling over the fire was lifted, and within a few minutes of tense silence, I was poured a cup of tea.
“Thanks.” I looked around and back to the druid. “Is?—”
“You ask me for asnack, and I will poison you.”
“So no cookies? Right. Got it.” I grinned as I held their flat look. I took a drink of my tea. “Mmm, I like it.”
“I’ll sleep happy tonight,” they snarked, and I fought back my laughter.
“This is the normalist I’ve seen you,” I told them honestly.
“Don’t get used to it.”
“Why?” I took another sip. “I like you normal.”
The druid put their cup down and fixed me with a heavy stare. “I’ve walked these woods for hundreds of years,” they stated matter-of-factly. “I’ve witnessed alphas come and go, pack wars won and lost, and too many dead to remember. I leftnormalbehind many,manyyears ago.”
I thought about what they said, and emptied my teacup. “Then I think you need to remember what it’s like.” I gestured to the tent. “You’ve seen so much, survived so much,” I added with respect. “When was the last time you lived?”
They blinked. “I don’t understand…”
“Survivingisn’t living.Servingisn’t all there is to life.” I pointed upwards. “She isn’t a tyrant.Youtaught me that. Luna will be okay if you want to lookaroundonce in a while and not justup.”
The druid sat still for so long I wondered if they were conjuring the poison for me right now. “Remind me not to serve you Assam tea again.”
I laughed and was pleased when I saw the slight smile they allowed.
“I spent last night spreading ash and iron across the territory lines,” they said, and the lightness was gone, and we were back to alpha and druid.
“Thank you.” I didn’t believe it would do much, but they had taken the time, and it was abigterritory to cover in one night. “Did you sense them?”
They shook their head. “No.” Their eyes crinkled at the corners in frustration. “Only alphas can hide their scent from me, but…this is not the work of an alpha.”
I stared at the druid. “Fuck!” I was on my feet, pacing as much as this cramped tent would allow. I hadn’t thought of aconqueringpack.
“Alpha Wolfe?” Their voice was calm, patient. A complete contrast to the fury pounding in my veins.
“I was so intent, so sure, it was a traitor. That they were rogues.” My hand ran through my hair. “That’s the pattern they weaved. Unpredictable, small, targeted attacks, taking nothing. Reckless. Wild.”
“Like rogues,” the druid agreed. “I know.”
“No.” I shook my head in frustration. “Seven attacks, including here, over one area, onelargearea, but concentrated nonetheless.” I sat down with a thud. “Rogues would have moved on?—”
“They have, to other packs.”
“No. No, they would moveon. North. East. Into the Rockies and beyond. Thispack,” I spat the word out. “This pack is sticking here, to the Appalachians. They aren’t looking forrandompacks to attack; this is a concentrated effort. They aretargetingthis pack.”
The druid was watching me closely, doubtfully, but they were listening. “There were four packs before the Hollow; you toldMalric you thought it was six. Why do you think the Hollow is the target?”
